Case Book
by Baroquess
Summary: There are some cases the Detective has issues with. LeonD, BL. I apologise for the lame title. XD
1. Case 1: Ice Cream

Title: Case #1:Ice Cream

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Leon's potty mouth, shounen-ai.

Challenge: Can I have this?

**Case #1: Ice Cream**

Leon would always expect many things when entering the old wooden door labelled 'Count D's Petshop'. It was good to be prepared, he'd been told throughout the training he'd undergone to become a detective.

However, he hadn't fully understood why until he'd met the enigmatic man who went under the pseudonym 'Count D'. Staging an important presence was a second nature to him. Even the 'him' was debatable. Count D wrapped himself in mystery and the trailing fumes of incense, making him smell vaguely of lavender. Even the scent that hung around the man annoyed him.

For he was definitely male. Though long, perfectly manicured dark red nails told a different story. The petite frame, which was wrapped eternally in the most exotic – and Leon suspected expensive – fabrics, which took on the pretence of being a Chinese, unisex dress. Leon knew better, and dammit, the Count should too.

That did not take away that with the lipstick, nail polish, and every other fucking thing that would be more suitable on a woman, the Count looked hot. Not even the lack of cleavage took away from that. Much to Leon's displeasure.

Said man forever clouded in mystery and perfume was now walking alongside him, looking entirely too happy in the real world. Leon's world. Currently occupied in a bizarre conversation with a silent boy and a raccoon, the eccentric figure made for quite a few spectators, something considered very unwanted by Leon. The less people who would turn into eyewitnesses when his already high-strung nerves snapped the better.

The most annoying thing was that whenever he tried to have a, to the outside world, rather one-sided conversation with his brother, Count D would feel neglected and butt in.

The first thing that always came from D's lips was "Can I have this?" Very much aware of this fact, and the fact that Leon could not say no to the frightening stare that looked so out of place when successfully pulling off pleading eyes made Leon walk very quickly past the expensive stores, while D stared at him with knowing eyes. A smirk played over the man's dark red mouth, stringing Leon's nerves even further. He balled his fists, placing them against his hips as he knew that if he let them go, he might accidentally hit the man.

"All of this is just a fucking game to you, isn't it? You bastard!" Count D, having seen the explosion long coming – Leon's temper exploded at least ten times a day, after all – quickly covered the young boy's ears with his hands, glaring murderously at the detective. "Please, I know you have no class at all, mister Detective, but must you expose your brother to the same filthy vocabulary you possess?"

Leon found it incredible that the man could simultaneously lift his nose and pull up his upper lip in disgust at him, while still managing to look attractive all the same. The man was infuriating in all possible senses.

He had to admit that the Count had a point. Though Chris would hardly copy his words in speech, it would be better not to ruin Chris like his aunt and uncle thought he was doing.

Leon stared pointedly when Count D stopped again, this time at – he feared to look- an icecream stand. Not even an expensive one, but one of those you found on every corner of every street. Eyebrows raised as blue eyes widened, staring from the smirk on the Count's face to the ice cream stand.

"This is my treat, detective. Next one is on you again."


	2. Case 2: Abundance

Title: Case #2: Abundance

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Leon's potty mouth, shounen-ai.

Challenge: Diet

A/N: I apologise for the abundance of exclamation marks. It's just that the detective just always screams at the Count. QQ And let's just… imagine that Leon doesn't know how GIRLY fighting over food is, because he's generally an ignoramus, even if he has l33t detective skills ©.

**Case #2: Abundance**

"The Hell! I'm not going to go on a diet, Count!"

The Count merely chuckled at the distraught Detective that had dragged himself inside his store. "Don't tell _me_, mister detective, tell your boss instead. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to hear that you don't mind waddling behind criminals who can hold you at gunpoint."

"What the Hell! _Waddling_? I'm not that fat, Count D- _Fuck_, I'm not fat at all!" Leon was offended that the Count would even consider affirming the doubts his chief and Jill had planted in his mind.

"I'm sure, detective." D couldn't help but lean forward to pinch the thin layer of softness over the detective's usually impeccable abs. Not that he'd been paying attention on their days to the beach, of course.

"It's all because of you anyhow! You and your sickeningly sweet pop tarts and cupcakes! I don't know how you can stand them. And you're not the least bit fat, either! Man, so unfair…" Leon trailed off, staring at the tight _dress_ D was wearing, which was doing a damn good job at rubbing the point across in Leon's face. The Count's slender figure had never looked more despicable than today. Must be one of those Chinese tricks: eat all you want to and not get fat. Hell, if Chinese people could fly, they could do anything.

He yelped in pain when his brain let him in on the information that the Count still had his long, sharp nails locked around his skin, and was refusing to let go. He snarled at the man, yanking the offending hand away from his body, and glared at the satisfied smirk that spread over the Count's lips.

"My dear detective, that is not from my pop tarts… you refuse to eat them, anyhow. Always leaving everything for me like the gentleman that you are." The Count's smile only turned more pleased when he saw the increase of hatred in the detective's glare.

"This is all because of your atrocious habits of drinking beer. Lots of it, in one night, sitting in front of the television. Did you not think those sort of habits would be damaging to your health at all? Really, now, detective." The chuckle that followed the belittling words infuriated Leon further.

"This is all because of you, and I'll prove it, you bastard! I won't visit for a week, and we'll see how much weight I've lost!" Leon stood up and stomped on the floor as he moved to exit the Godforsaken petshop.

The surprised gasp that left the Count's lips was just icing on the cake.

--

Leon had expected the sudden free time inbetween shifts, with suddenly no other place to go other than strip clubs and cafes.

Leon had not expected it to be so hard to visit them. With Chris on the phone the moment he got to his apartment, he did not get any peace of mind. The boy did not speak to him through the phone, as expected, and the Count refused to translate Chris' thoughts over the phone, claiming it was '_mister detective's own job'_. The silence, to Leon, meant that Chris could be saying that he wanted to visit at him. At any given time.

_Goddamn_ it.

If Chris came to his sleazy apartment and he smelled of cigarettes and beer and _God knows what else_, he could forget about ever seeing Chris again. Either Count D would keep Chris hidden from his bad influences forever, or the Chinese man would claw his eyes out. Leon definitely did not think the Count was above such physical punishment.

And thus, the only thing which was both worth doing and also kept his mind from experiencing boredom for 24 hours straight was watching television. That was, until even the network stations figured nobody could be up at this late and the television faded to a black screen.

Leon's buzzed state no longer let him take notice of it, and instead made him fall asleep on the couch, rolling in restless slumber inbetween empty beer bottles.

--

This continued for a few days, until Leon was absolutely sure the Count was making Chris call on purpose. The boy probably had no intention to trade in his animal friends and luxurious bed – bigger than Leon's - for Leon's dingy, probably damned rat-invested place in the first place. This meant only one thing: _Hooters_. Justice, finally.

The problem was; Leon was far too inebriated to be bothered to lift himself of the sofa, let alone drive to a nude bar. He could see naked boobs just fine on his walls. And fuck if he wasn't going to take advantage of it.

Before he could fully unzip his pants, his brain called it a night.

--exciting

Leon growled at the tacky bell that rung as he entered the door. He punished it by slamming the door with more force than he'd intended. He was greeted with Chris jumping in his arms, clinging to him, and it took him a minute to steady himself. _Damn_, he really needed to get some sleep. 

"It's okay. It's okay, I'm back, Chris." He hoped his grin was as convincing as he intended it to be. He still didn't like being back in the Petshop, it was almost as if he was admitting defeat.

If Count D had the same thought, he didn't show it on his face. Instead, he simply nodded as he walked, carefully placing the expensive-looking tray atop of the dinner table, smiling at the brothers. "Please, won't you both have some tea?"

All pretence of innocence faded as Leon noticed the smirk accompanying the stare on the Count's face. "What?" he asked. He never was one for bothering with polite trivialities.

"It seems that you not only have not lost weight, but you have actually put on some, detective. But not to worry; I am not judgemental. The highest alpha male lion is always the heaviest one, after all."

Leon could barely contain the urge to shatter the teacup of fine china over the black hair of the aggravating man, whose face haunted him every night. Only the presence of Chris next to him, smiling at the Count's joke, stopped him. The Count really could not blame him that he was fat and didn't sleep, as it was _his_ fault in the first place.

The he sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Fine, I give up… will you help me lose the weight?" He glared at the Count, daring him to give a negative response or mock him for his surrender.

When the Count's lips formed into a suggestive smile, Leon wished he'd rather gone to Jill for help.

"I will take in the weak little lion, but on one condition…" _Damn the Count and his contracts._

"What do you want now, you sleazy little shit?" Leon didn't even bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"Breakfast in bed. For a month. For both Chris and me."

"Fine." Leon had actually expected worse. Besides, this meant he could get to sleep in a clean apartment for once. One with a nice bed.

One which would only increase his dreams of Count D as it even_ smelled_ like him, he realised later as he awoke from another heated dream. _Goddamnit._


	3. Case 3: Taste

Disclaimer: I don't own Petshop of Horrors, nor its characters.

**Case 3: Taste**

The streets were brimming with people, shouting at each other and throwing random insults inbetween sushi bites. Cluttered as the streets were with loud colours and banners, there was one building which was deadly quiet.

Inside the petshop Chinatown had become so familiar with, all was eerily quiet, save for a few hissing voices doing their best to keep quiet, lest the animals would be aggravated.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I don't want anything to do with your business, and you know it damned well!" The blond detective hissed as he leaned over the Count's slight frame, his face hovering slightly too close to be considered platonically threatening.

When Leon realised this, he quickly pulled away. Count D smirked, one leg crossing over the other. "But Detective…"

"Call me Leon, dammit!"

"Detective, would you like me to kick you out, or can I finish?" The Count showed the first signs of his patience cracking, his nails clawing into the armrests of his sofa. Leon stared at the man in front of him, trying to make him disappear with a glare. Unfortunately, in their staring matches, he had found his match.

He'd never won before.

Leon bristled and tossed himself back into his seat, hoping to damage it at least slightly. He could pretend it had been an excuse; he'd tried with the teacups, and D hadn't bought it. Leon had paid for it with his entire month's pay check. _Goddamn smug bastard._

"You tricked me in here from the first moment you saw me, goddamn you. You probably made damn sure the boss sent me to this godforsaken shop with all of your little contacts around the town."

"And why would I do that, mister detective? Surely I have no benefits that come with a rude boar of a detective coming to upset my poor pets? If there are benefits, please tell me, as I'd love to sample them." D was very pleased with the direction this conversation was going.

"Of course, because you are a damn crossdressing homosexual! What the Hell, don't you think I don't notice your stares at me? It creeps me out, you freak." The second Leon realised what he'd said, he regretted the words, if only for his own health.

D looked miffed for a second, but before Leon could comment on the loss of posture, the look had vanished from his sight. D got up, and very calmly tossed a cup of hot tea in the detective's lap. He easily sat back down, smiling as Leon tried to cool down his pants without actually taking them off. "Careful now, mister detective… you wouldn't want to entice me even further."

Leon looked up, his right eyelid still twitching from the screams of pain he suppressed. "I'm already leaving, you bastard." Leon was not amused that his voice sounded scratchy. Count D appeared to find it entire too amusing. "Just don't get me involved in your business of homicidal pets or slaves or whatever the fuck you're about."

With a few long strides, Leon left the room, Toutetsu chasing after him angrily. On the way home he bumped into people, shoving them aside angrily.

--

"You have passed my test, mister detective."

"What the fuck? What kind of test?" Leon yelled. He was, according to himself rightfully, pissed. D's smirk was taunting him, and Leon wondered offhandedly whether a smile could recharge over a period of time and return with a vengeance.

Maybe only Chinese people could do that. Leon was ready to believe anything the Count told him. His detective instinct, normally very accurate, told him simply that the Count made no sense.

"The kind of test does not matter, mister detective." Count D was simply very happy to see the detective reunited with his little brother, and Toutetsu satisfied with Leon's leg.

"Of course it matters, you moron!" He took a brief pause to put the bonbons on D's coffee table, before continuing his tirade. Really, could the Count just _not_ be toying with his nerves, for once? He was relieved when Chris took the not so subtle yelling as a hint and took the hands of a raccoon as they walked into the next room.

Before Leon could sit down to have his disgusting tea – which he was sore to admit he was getting used to – Count D got up, took one of the confectionaries, and bit the tip off. He smiled, obviously pleased with the taste, and nodded, staring at Leon in a way that made the detective uncomfortable.

"Will you follow me to the appropriate room, please? I will see you to your heart's desire, as you have paid the appropriate price."

"…The fuck?" Leon doubted he could find a more appropriate answer if he tried.

Suddenly, Toutetsu was behind him, growling at him and hovering his teeth a little too close to Leon's leg for the detective's comfort. Unwilling to be scared of a stupid goat…thing, he took the first stubborn step in following the Count's agile walk.

He missed the satisfied smirk that appeared on D's lips when his footsteps joined D's.

It was then that he realised that he'd been trapped long before he actually knew what was going on.

"Of course, there are some rules you will have to follow if you wish to obtain your wildest fantasy."

--

The kiss tasted wonderful. It was excruciatingly sweet, most likely noxious to his teeth, and D's mouth was cooler than he'd imagined it. It was a frenzied mixing of saliva, and Leon loved every second of it. Damn, but he'd missed some action in a big way, if he got this exited over a simple kiss. It wasn't hard to ignore that he was kissing a man, as the body in his arms was small, and slender, and fucking clothed in a dress.

Leon found himself more than willing to warm up D's mouth, and found D not a very unwilling participant. When D's tongue probed his mouth, tracing his lips, he eagerly parted them.

Leon decided that next time, he should get better-tasting sweets. Then he thought no more.

--

Later that night, Leon rolled over in his own bed, with its own scent, and was reminded that he had to clean the sheets sometime this week, or D wouldn't let him see Chris anymore.

And since when was he so goddamn whipped. Goddamn, it had just been some stupid hormone-deal anyhow.

He rolled over again, stubbornly refusing to stare at the moon and make idiotic romantic comparisons, the kind of sissies those seventeenth-century poets did.

The money he'd reserved for the Count's extravagant chocolate cake was practically glaring at him.

_Damn._

Count D stared at the same moon Leon was trying to avoid, and smirked. He almost didn't mind the cracked nail. Almost.

"Yes, my dearest detective… you passed with flying colours indeed."


End file.
